The Death of Thomas Andrews
by Tuomas Lover
Summary: This story takes place in heaven after Rose and Jack had found Thomas Andrews in the dining area, adjusting the clock, and so forth. Do read and review, it's my first nonJackRose story.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** I have recently decided that I've wanted to do a story based on Mr. Andrews, but yet after the Titanic had sunk, and in the heaven scene before Rose came in. I hope you will all enjoy this.

That was the last time I had seen Rose DeWitt Bukater and Jack Dawson, as they had watched me prepare to go down with the ship. I had suspected that by then that Caledon Hockley wasn't too important in Rose's life. Infact, I had never seen any chemistry between the two of them. I remember that whenever I saw her, I could tell that her heart never rested in Cal's--nor in mine, ofcourse--but definitely had rested in Jack's. They were the miracle of life, the two of them... to think that'd they'd be so traumatized by the time this is over would be too terrible. I had no idea whether or not they would survive this tragedy, but who knows? Maybe they would be popping out numerous kids and naming them after eachother in the future.

As I adjusted the clock to the time of which the Titanic will be fully underwater, all I could do was to stand there and wait--wait for what was to be my death. I just waited and waited, watched the water rise up above the windows... watched the precious china fall down onto the floor. I knew all along in my heart that this bloody ship of wood and iron would sink, I just didn't follow my gut. If I had known such things would happen, I would not have designed such a thing in the first place. However, having seen the wonders on this ship that had brought people together, such as Jack and Rose, I began to think that everything had happened for a reason. It was something that God wanted to happen, all so that others could learn from past mistakes... such as my own.

The next thing I knew, the water bursted through the portholes and swallowed me into its grave. I felt myself fall unconscious, as I battled to get atleast some air out of all this pain, this misery. Beforehand, I was sure that out in the outside world, people would be remembering me not as a coward, but moreso as someone with good in his heart. They would know that I did not advertise the "fact" that this ship was unsinkable. They would atleast know just how crazy this experience has been. Poor Rose, poor Jack, poor Ruth, poor Cal, poor Captain Smith, poor Molly Brown. This will all have sunk into their memories by now, just as I was being sucked down by the ship.

The second I went unconscious, I awoke in a strange place--the hall of the Titanic! It seems as though this was just a dream, as people kept on appearing out of nowhere. However, I knew that this was all a chaotic nightmare, with men crying because they could not have been with their wives on the lifeboats, alongside women who would never see their dear children again. Infact, whole families had begun to appear by then, mainly families who had been labelled as the "third class" passengers. I saw some specific first class men I had known, yet I did not see Caledon Hockley or any of his friends. I could see Captain Smith, as he had been rushing about looking for me.

"Over here, sir!" I shouted, as I got up off the floor. "Over here, captain!"

I saw the faithful captain pause for a moment, and afterwards, had turned towards me. "Mr. Andrews, good God," he gasped, "where are we? Do you know anything about this?"

I stood there for a moment, and looked below me. I could see an aerial view of the Titanic, as it was sinking under my feet. "Sir, I think we might be in heaven," I said, giving a weak smile. I had always wanted to be in heaven, but I had no idea it would be in this ship.

"So you're saying that all of us are dead by now?" said Captain Smith. "I mean, I know I'm dead, but everyone else here? What are we going to tell them?"

"Oh, they will figure it out soon. Infact, I'm sure that others have figured it out already as we did," I responded faintly, still looking down at what was becoming of the terror below. It was now all the way underwater, and almost a hundred bodies were now floating in the water, with a boat searching about, and about six others moving about. I noticed one person in particular swimming over to an officer to blow his whistle. The person happened to be a woman, with glistening red hair and a blue jacket wrapped around her. It could not have been Rose, could it?

"Mr. Andrews!" I heard, coming from behind me. I realized that it was dear Jack Dawson. "Mr. Andrews!"

"Mr. Dawson, I'm very sorry that this had to happen, I swear--" I said, as he came up to me with tears trinkling down his cheeks. I did not know what to do about him, and I did not know how to explain of this to him.

"Mr. Andrews, I know you're sorry, and it's not your fault! I was just wondering if you have seen Rose anywhere," he stated, looking at me as though he had just seen a ghost. "I was in the water with her, and I had told her that she was going to survive, and have lots of babies, and that she would die warm in bed, and--"

"Dawson, is it? Yes, Mr. Dawson... I believe she is down there being put onto a boat," I said, as my vision grew closer to the woman who I had noticed beforehand. She was most definitely Rose, and she was most definitely still living. "I believe she is a survivor as of now."

I was still very disappointed that she had not followed my advice to get onto a lifeboat right after I had told her that the ship was going to sink, but for once I noticed just how good life was. I faced Jack once more, and looked up into his eyes. "You should be happy for her," I said, "and when she dies, I'm sure she will be coming back for you."

"Thankyou, sir," Jack sighed, being somewhat disappointed, yet also very happy. "She will come back for me... when she is much older. I swear, that woman is going to go on, and she is going to live to be a hundred when she dies, and she will have told our story to someone. He will want the Heart of the Ocean, but I know she won't give it to him. Yes, it will all end this way."

"Sir--" I said, holding in a chuckle. But what was the use? God was probably already hearing his request by now. I turned back to the humble, old Captain Smith, and sighed heavily.

"Captain," I exclaimed, "I want you to make the announcement that we are in heaven, because I'm sure that if people are believing that they are in hell, they are very much wrong. Please, do go ahead and tell them this. I was a passenger on this ship, so I shouldn't be making the announcement, but you were the one everyone would listen to."

"I will, Mr. Andrews," he said, giving me a pat on the shoulder. He then blew his whistle very loudly. "May I have your attention please!"

A few people turned to look at him, and as he blew the whistle again, others seemed to have followed. Over a thousand faces were now facing him, who had ranged from class to class. The many first class gentlemen who had not made it to the lifeboats gazed at his appearance. They would have thought that such a man would have decided to get onto a lifeboat and would have aided the lifeboats all together, but he was brave enough to go down with the ship.

"Face me everyone," he shouted, feeling overwhelmed by the amount of people surrounding him. "Now, I want you all to be aware that this is no hell we are in, but rather a heaven. Everyone who has died on the catastrophe down before is up here, no matter what sins you all have commited or what cultures you all support. We are all in this together. If you look down below, you will be able to look what who you want to look at, whether it be a family member, someone who may have had a relationship with, a good friend, or an enemy. If you look around here, you might be re-united with good friends and other family here, but don't be surprised if you have lost anyone. Infact, you have not lost anyone, because they have all lost you. They are all alive down there, and as of now, we are all going to accept the fact that we are all dead, and that we all have died... on the Titanic. The ship of dreams. I am deeply sorry about this."

"It's-a not your-a fault-a!" one Italian man with bushy, black eyebrows had said. "It's-a that-a man, Ismay's, fault-a!"

"Now now, all Mr. Ismay wanted was Titanic to make headlines, but yet, he had gotten his headline," said a solemn Captain Smith, shaking his head. He could see Mr. Ismay below, being thrown into absolute embarassment for what he had suggested before--to light the rest of the boilers.

The people facing the captain nodded their heads in grief, imagining how their loved ones were now doing, trying to find out of any of their loved ones had died with them. The Italian man who had spoken had found his love, aswell as a few friends of his, including a little girl who could have been saved if I had ordered more lifeboats, if I had ordered all the gates to be opened. If I had not put the gates there in the first place...

Once Captain Smith had gathered up all of his thoughts, he turned back to me and embraced me. "I'm so sorry," he said, looking at the wall behind me.

"It's not your fault... if I had not built a stronger ship, this would not have happened."

Then again, he did not know that.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** I hope you all have had a sad 94th anniversary of the Titanic sinking! I was waiting for a review on this, and once I got my review, I was absolutely thrilled. I would have updated yesterday, but I decided not to. I had already put my memorial on Found: Saved by Love.

I honestly had no idea how long the days were, how long we would be waiting for loved ones to come up here with us. I could tell how quickly the days were going by, for I often gazed below the surface of my feet, watching my widowed wife grieve over my death. Maybe we had been in heaven for about a week or so? Perhaps? I was being quite nonchalant about myself, for I knew I was already dead, but I still had that caring gift for others that I wish I could have used when I could have told Mr. Ismay that the ship was sinkable. It was a mistake we all made, in my opinion. Mr. Ismay's conceit, Mr. Smith's poor judgement, my mistake of adveritizing the _Titanic _amongst my friends... my dearest friends; some of whom I could see right in front of me, others still on the earth, traumatized and better off dead.

Some passengers had brought their who life's worth of money on the Titanic, and sadly had to leave it there during the evacuation plan. They were now pennyless! People who used to have a "higher" rank in society were now homeless on the streets, unable to survive because of their sanity was departing their minds; they weren't used to the conditions of sickness and filthiness that covered the streets, killing people day by day. I could see more and more people coming up to "_Titanic Heaven_" everyday, including rich folk who had put pistols to their heads, people who had died of starvation, and so many more people who died of other causes. It was only until now that I realized how much God would do for us to get into heaven, and how he made dying his lesson to others down below who were still living; to live life at its fullest, and when they are ready, God will take them. Some of them were not ready, sadly. It was also obvious that someone would have to do so big of a crime that they would not go down to the gates of hell itself.

"Mr. Andrews, sir, Jack Dawson is weeping," said a man of whom I had recognized as good ole Officer Moody, putting someone else's grief over his own. That was quite nice of him, in my own opinion, to think that I had good reasoning skills. I never thought that of me.

I went over to a bawling Jack Dawson, who was sitting with an Italian friend and his girlfriend (I'm sure it was his girlfriend). I supposed that he was looking down at Rose, of whom he was proud to say a few days ago that Rose had taken in his last name as her own. This time, however, he did not know what to do.

"She's starving, she's sick! Somebody help her!" Jack wailed, louder than all the other folk who were also down on their knees, crying as though nothing could save themselves.

"Mr. Dawson, someone will find her, and that person will most definitely help her," I said, patting him on his back. He trully deserved his loved one to live her full life.

"I promise, Rose, you will not die until you tell your story. You will keep it a secret, until you're old. Very old, infact," Jack cried, clasping his forehead. "You will not die now! You hear me?"

"I'm not sure if she can hear you, Jack," I said, trying to help his desperate behaviours. "It would be rather lovely if she did."

"You don't know that, Mr. Andrews," Jack replied, now looking up at me. "If she is hearing me, anyway, that would be a plus. I hope she is... I do have hope in her."

I tried my best to allow my vision of down below to make out Rose, and I then saw her looking up at the sky. Maybe she heard him in her mind, telling her that she will be alright. Then, suddenly, a person walked up to her and held her hand. He heard something about "Calvert" and "thankyou." Maybe she was talking her in to his apartment or something. Anyway, my mind drifted back to the picture of my wife, who was still sobbing over my death. I decided to go down to the floor beside Jack, and atleast give him some empathy.

"Listen--I may not be going through what you are, but I understand how you feel," I told him, looking at him straight into the eye. "I cannot bear to see my wife grieve over me, and I'm sure that Rose would feel the same way if she knew how much you were grieving over her. Look at the poor thing--she has enough to grieve about, but she does grieve over you because she loves you, and you grieve over her because you love her. I, to be honest, do not know what it's like to love... our marriage was arranged for us."

"That's awful, Mr. Andrews," Jack replied, "that you couldn't, well, love her. I think I'll just depart for a while. To her room, maybe? Just to look at my drawing again."

"I'm glad you're taking that into reason, Mr. Dawson," I nodded, now turning away to depart to my own room. But then, I saw something flash before my eyes.

...flashback...

_"Father, why do I have to marry her again?" I said, as a young man of twenty. Both of our parents had planned this out, and I wished to marry a poor girl, with better looks and a better personality than this girl had. I did not even know this future-spouse's name, all I knew was that I had chosen her out of a batch of young people. I should have never done such a thing._

_"Come on, I thought you wanted to marry her. You chose her, Thomas," said my father, Richard Andrews. He was a very stern man, did not exactly love my mother, either. "Surely you'd want to marry a good woman. You did have the choice and now you have chosen. Besides, we're men, and we are the ones who choose."_

_"I wish I could have the woman agree with it, though..."_

...end flashback

I just stood there, not knowing how that could have come on. I never ever had a flashback before--maybe it was a part of being dead? I thought that it could maybe be a sign--that maybe I should have given her more credit for her love for me back in the world below. After all, what I did to her before I went to the ship was not exactly pleasant...


	3. Chapter 3

...Flashback...

_"I'm designing a new ship, sweetheart," I said, putting one arm around my wife's shoulders. I almost loved her, not purely, but almost. She was currently sitting and moping on the sofa in the grande parlor, sipping some champagne. I let out a long blow of air, not so keen on what she could say to me. We were always bickering and fighting with eachother these days._

_"Do you know what it's going to be called yet?" my wife finally responded, looking up at me in the eye._

_"No, I'm leaving the advertizing and the name-calling to Mr. Ismay," I told her, giving her a kiss on her forehead, "does that sound alright?"_

_"Why do you always leave it to Mr. Ismay to decide?" she questioned, as calm as a baby's breath._

_"He's the big boss of the company darling," I sighed impatiently, "it's his job to do this."_

_"You should be the boss of your ideas," she replied, "you are a good man, you know."_

_I could barely see the sarcasm in what she was saying. She did not love me, nor did she even care about whether or not we would stay together or depart. Maybe she was always trying to make me feel uncomfortable with her, or just asking for a divorce. Then again, I did not want to divorce her. There may have been no love in our relationship, but there was always a lovely deal of friendship involved. If we got divorced, we would not stay friends forever._

...End Flashback...

"This very night with bated breath and muffled oar, without a light as still as death, we'll steal ashore. A clergy man shall make them one at half past ten, and then we can return, for none can part them then. This very night with bated breath and muffled oar, without a light as still as death, we'll steal ashore, a clergy man shall make them one at half past ten, and then we can return for none! None!" I sang merrily in my room, as I brushed off my old jacket that was covered in dust. Ofcourse, I could not see in any way possible why there would ever be dust in heaven. However, that must have been God's way of saying hello.

"Mr. Andrews, I found it!" I heard coming from my doorway.

"What the--" I jumped, "oh it's just you, Mr. Dawson. You scared me there for a second."

"Sorry, Mr. Andrews," he said, giving me a bow.

"Th-there's no need to bow to me, Mr. Dawson," I stuttered, taken aback from what he had done.

"Again, I'm sorry," he laughed nervously. "It's just that I found my drawings. You wanna see them?"

I nodded, and then walked over to him. He began to show me some gorgeous drawings of different people I had never met.

"Where did you draw these, Mr. Dawson?" I asked, seeing all sorts of nude women on each page. I then came across a familiar women, who I knew I had met somewhere. "Is that _Rose_, Mr. Dawson?"

"Why yes, it is," he smiled, obviously perked up from what he was seeing. I chortled at his response.

"Did Cal ever see this?" I asked again, remembering Cal's expressions towards her when I had told her that the ship would sink.

"Yes, I'm pretty sure he did," he sighed, "because I remember seeing a red mark on her face when she came to rescue me from the arms when I was arrested."

"That's too bad."

"I know, Mr. Andrews. She did not love him, you know."

"I noticed," I said with an awkward expression on my face. After all, I had never imagined Rose being drawn so unlike a porcelain doll. She just looked so natural, let alone attractive. I also could not imagine how Jack was feeling as he was drawing such a work of art. I could never see myself drawing my own wife or lover, because I did not think I could ever love at all.

I then saw a depressed look form on Jack's face. I really pitied him quite a lot, actually. He shook his head, and I figured that he must have wanted to leave. He had gotten better over the past ten years while we had been up here in heaven. He told me that Rose had married that Calvert man he had mentioned earlier, and that she popped out two kids already, Jack Calvert being the oldest and Ruth Calvert being the youngest. Jack knew that young Jack was his, but Rose never mentioned whose baby it was. Infact, she did not mention his name to Calvert period.

"I best be off, then," he told me, giving me a small nodd and a quick smile. I waved, and got back to my business. Infact, like what Jack was doing with his drawings, I was looking for something myself. A key, infact. It was actually the key my wife had given me just incase I did not come back for her. Ofcourse, I did not. I would have never left her if I had known this was going to happen in the first place. Infact, I had saved her life before all this...


	4. Chapter 4

Ten more years had past since the Titanic sank, so that would be twenty years; 1932. It was hard keeping track of the time up in heaven, because everything goes as fast as a bolt of lightning making its way to touch the earth. I was rather intrigued by where I was, how I was keeping myself occupied. It seems like it had been only yesterday when I had found the key to my house. My wife must have been wondering about whether or not it went down with the ship, which had obviously happened. She felt that it was awfully unfair. Maybe I should have shown her more gratitude back on earth, but it was too late.

Caledon Hockley arrived in heaven a few years back, probably three. I saw that he had changed, and he said that he actually saw Rose on the day of his death. He had coincidentally adopted her daughter, Cora, sixteen years beforehand because she couldn't afford her. I don't remember what happened for the years after that, because Jack had only said that she had two other kids then. Maybe she took Cora back in her own custody, I have no clue.

Everything stays the same up here in heaven, but when you look hard enough, you find things so dear to you. That's atleast what I have found. I've found old clothes, a comb, a present for my wife which I had blatantly never gotten to give her, some of Jack's art supplies that I had helped him look for, and many other things. Also, there is no night and day, although I do have to say that the sky is always blue up here. Perhaps it stays the day, because the night always reminds me of the ship sinking, since it had happened in the early hours of April 15th while the night's sky was still out there. Actually, I do sometimes miss the night an awful lot.

"Mr. Andrews, sir," said Captain Smith, poking my shoulder as I stood by the grand clock, with my hand on my chin, "Molly Brown is here to speak with you."

"Molly Brown, Captain?" I replied, astounded to see an old friend of mine up here.

"She died just now," he said to me, patting me on the shoulder blade and then taking off for his daily rounds.

I jerked myself around, and I saw the plump, the rich, the famous Molly Brown standing right in front of me. She held her arms out, with bright red lipstick surrounding her wide grin. I smiled grandly, and rushed over to give her a large embrace.

"You survived!" I exclaimed with glee. I did not cease to believe it, for Molly Brown was, infact, unsinkable.

"Well, ofcourse, I survived, sonny," she told me in her western accent. "Traumatized, yes. Freezing, yes. However, I did live."

"No need to point out the obvious, Ms. Brown," I laughed, putting my arm around her shoulders. "Here, let me show you around."

"Oh yes, the old Titanic," she chortled, "I remember this ship as though I went on it yesterday."

"Mmhmm," I mumbled, as I took Molly to the grand staircase. I saw Jack Dawson standing there, still awaiting Rose's arrival.

"Jack, she's going to live a long time, and you know that," I told him, as I climbed up the staircase with dear old Molly.

"I know, I know, it's going to be--Molly Brown?" he exclaimed, raising his eyebrow high. He immediately ran down the stairs and hugged her, almost making her fall over.

"You did not survive, did you, Jack?" she moaned, afraid of what he would say.

"I know, I told her that I was a survivor, and then it was too late," he sighed, making a rather disappointed facial expression. "I did tell her that she would survive and move on, get married and make babies... and she did so, and I'm proud of her. She's doing alright now, I watch her everyday. She even has her own daughter in custody now, ever since her husband died. I'm not sure how he died, but he did."

"Well, that's too bad," said Molly, with a mournful look on her face, her eyes facing the floor and the left half of her mouth raised, "but it's a good thing that she got to have your kid again. How old is she now?"

"Early twenties," he said, "she did not have enough time to really get to know her, for Rose had lost her sixteen years prior to Cora's adoption. However, she really enjoyed her. She was surprisingly raised well."

"Well, that's a good thing. You'd think that she'd be rather arrogant with Cal and all," said Molly, raising her eyebrows and looking at Jack straight in the eye with a smile.

"Yup, definately is," Jack said happily, proud of her daughter's personality. "Anyway, we shall go, I see that Tom is just standing there, although you are rather patient, right Tom?"

Mr. Andrews nodded his head, grunting, yet not in a bad way. He, Molly, and Jack progressed up to B deck, where Rose had stayed.

**A/N **It took me a long time to finally start writing again, so I'm sorry. Anyway, yeah... I got a really bad hate review today on my Harry Potter spoof, which was taken very seriously by some dumbass piece of shit who made a stereotypical race remark and told me that I needed to stop writing, and all I wrote was a SPOOF. So if you are reading this, "fuck yo couch," just simply follow my writing: **go kill yourself**. Thanks.


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